His advice
was to flee from the wrath to come. He would not say
flee from the Holy Office--that would be heinous!--but
he would say absent myself, abscond, be banished, Jayme
de Marchena by Jayme de Marchena. There were barques
in Palos and rude seamen who asked no question when
gold just enough, and never more than enough, was shown.
He hesitated a moment and then asked if I had funds. If
not--
I thanked him and said that I had made provision.
"Then," said he, "go to Barbary, Don Jayme! An intelligent
and prudent man may prosper at Ercilla or at Fez.
If you must study, study there."
"You also study," I said.
"In fair trodden highways--never in thick forest and
mere fog!" he answered. "Now if you were like one who
has been here and is now before Granada, at Santa Fe, sent
for thither by the Queen! That one hath indeed studied to
benefit Spain--Spain, Christendom, and the world!"
I asked who was that great one, but before he could tell
me came interruption. A visitor entered, a strong-lipped,
bold-eyed man named Martin Pinzon. I was to meet him
again and often, but at this time I did not know that. Fray
Juan Perez evidently desiring that I should go, I thought
it right to oblige him who would have done me kindness
had he known how. I went without intimate word of parting
and after only a casual stare from Martin Pinzon.
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